


The Quiet Hour

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: John can't sleep and finds comfort in Sherlock





	The Quiet Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't sleep, wrote this at 1am, and it's unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine

John tossed and turned. He had to work in the morning, but he simply couldn’t will himself to sleep. Downstairs he could hear Sherlock moving around, doing God knew what at four in the morning.

Grumbling, John threw back the covers and pulled on a robe against the cold. It was just turning chill and the heat had never been the best in his room. He scrubbed his hands in his face and headed downstairs, blinking at the light as he stepped inside.

It took a few moments for him to realize what he was seeing. Sherlock was… _dancing_. Ballet, by the looks of it, wearing only pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt. Soft music came from the computer on the table. John stood transfixed, watching the way he moved with grace.

Sherlock turned and then faltered, seeing John there. “Did I wake you?” He reached for the computer, fumbling with the music. 

Another song came on instead. John barely hesitated, stepping forward and catching Sherlock’s hands in his own, leading him into a slow dance. He wasn’t very good at this, at all, but Sherlock quickly took the lead. John smiled gently, relaxing in Sherlock’s arms, taking his silent directions. Their natural rhythm, Sherlock and John, John and Sherlock. 

And it was Sherlock that took the next step, leaning in to kiss John. John smiled and kissed him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They seemed to both pull away at the same time, studying one another. John took his hand and led Sherlock down the hall towards his room. It felt like a continuation of the dance, a culmination of many steps.

There was no need to talk as they shed clothes in the dim light, slipping under the blankets. John drew Sherlock close and kissed him again, running a hand down his side, feeling the coolness of his skin. His hand came to rest on Sherlock’s hip.

Sherlock opened his mouth to him, a small sigh escaping his lips. John wondered if Sherlock had imagined this moment as much as had. Sherlock’s hand reached up to run through John’s hair.

John moved them face to face, smiling at Sherlock in the dark before leaning in to kiss him again. Sherlock’s hands moved along his body in turn, exploring, caressing, cataloging. John shivered under the attention.

Carefully, Sherlock turned John onto his back and moved over him, taking control of the kiss, reaching down to take them both in one hand. John groaned and rocked up into his grip. So much for foreplay, but perhaps after so much time of skirting the issue, they were both eager.

John nipped Sherlock’s lower lip, running his hands through his hair. Words stood at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t dare break the quiet. The only sound was that of them moving together.

Sherlock groaned quietly. John brought one hand down to rest on Sherlock’s hip. They panted each other’s air as Sherlock steadily drove them higher.

John came all at once, moaning, arching up. Sherlock came a moment later, leaning down to steal desperate kisses.

“Shh,” whispered John, breaking the silence at last. “I’m here. I promise. Not going anywhere.”

Sherlock shivered and stilled, taking one more gentle kiss before getting up and slipping into the en suite. He quickly returned with a cloth and wiped them both up, tossing it in the direction of the door.

John gathered him in his arms, holding him against his chest. Sherlock sighed again, settling against his side.

Gently, John ran fingers through Sherlock’s hair, feeling him fall asleep. John turned his head and saw the grey light of dawn just gracing the sky. He’d be tired for work, but he knew he wouldn’t regret this, not for one moment.


End file.
